What can you do with a frozen albino squirrel? Better question: What can't you do with it?

Pioneer Press

Posted:
11/05/2012 12:01:00 AM CST

Writes In Search of a Pseudonym:
"Once upon a time, I owned a mannequin. A friend found it by a Dumpster and brought it home. I inherited it when she got bored with it.

"Once you have a mannequin, you can find dozens of uses for it. We dressed it up and brought it to monthly themed events that we ran. It was a cowboy, a belly dancer, a pioneer, a witch, and more.

"I drove around with it in my front passenger seat for years, for no good reason, and would scare the heck out of people in parking garages. I had it in the car when I had the tires replaced and shocked the mechanic when he went to move the car from the parking lot to the garage.

"I never did use it to cheat in the carpool lane.

"Now I find myself with a frozen dead albino squirrel. It doesn't matter how I got it. OK, I picked it up off the ground at St. Kate's after a ballet on Friday night. I don't know why it was there, but it was in terrific shape. I put it in a gallon zip-lock bag and shoved it in the freezer.

"Now that I have it, I am thinking of dozens of wonderful things I could do with it. I could put it in the freezer at work on the Friday that they clean it out, so the cleaning crew can find it. I could put it in the overhead bookcase of a new unsuspecting co-worker. I could pose it in a tree in my yard in a strange position once we get a hard freeze. I could set it up on a spring so it pops out at any electioneering folks knocking at my door.

Advertisement

"I probably won't actually do any of these things with my frozen albino squirrel, but it is amazing how new ideas for its use keep popping into my head!"

In memoriam

The Divine Mum of Crocus Hill: "I don't know if I have ever read such a touching condolence letter as the one written by F. Scott Fitzgerald on Jan. 31, 1937. The letter -- which was featured recently at http://lettersofnote.com -- was written to a couple (Gerald and Sara Murphy) whose 16-year-old son had died of tuberculosis the day before. The boy's brother had died two years earlier, succumbing to meningitis:

" 'Dearest Gerald and Sara:

" 'The telegram came today and the whole afternoon was so sad with thoughts of you and the happy times we had once. Another link binding you to life is broken and with such insensate cruelty that it is hard to say which of the two blows was conceived with more malice. I can see the silence in which you hover now after this seven years of struggle and it would take words like Lincoln's in his letter to the mother who had lost four sons in the war to write you anything fitting at the moment. The sympathy you will get will be what you have had from each other already and for a long, long time you will be inconsolable.

" 'But I can see another generation growing up around Honoria and an eventual peace somewhere, an occasional port of call as we all sail deathward. Fate can't have any more arrows in its quiver for you that will wound like these. Who was it said that it was astounding how deepest griefs can change in time to a sort of joy? The golden bowl is broken indeed but it was golden; nothing can ever take those boys away from you now.

The most recent Monday's Bulletin Board ended with a note from Auntie Omi: "Subject: The little girl who didn't cry wolf.

"I was auntie-sitting Jack and Nora. Daddy came home and decided they would go out for supper. I decided to just go home.

"We headed to our cars, which were next to each other in the garage -- theirs to the left of mine. Nora (6), while standing by the rear passenger-side door ready to get in, said: 'I can hear air coming out of the tire.'

" 'What?' I said (thinking: 'Oh, yeah, right'). I quickly waved my hand by the tire and said: 'You must be hearing wind blowing on crunchy leaves in the yard.'

"I went home. They went out to eat and came back just fine.

"In the morning, the right rear tire was flat."

We presently heard from Jewels: "Auntie Omi's experience was similar to mine -- except I play the part of her niece.

"My parents, my brother and I drove down to my uncle's funeral last winter. As we got out of the car, I could hear a hissing sound. I followed it to the rear tire of my brother's big SUV and told him he was leaking air. Everyone walked over to the tire and said they couldn't hear anything. There was a tiny piece of red plastic sticking out of the tire, and I could hear the very clear sound of air leaving the tire. I could feel it! But, no, they didn't believe me. Their old ears couldn't hear the high-pitched sound.

"I'm the youngest. Nobody ever believes me.

"We went into the church, and when we came out, the tire was flat. My brother called AAA.

"Next time, they still won't believe me. I couldn't possibly be right two times."

Come again?

Another episode of creative hearing, reported by Midnight Angel of Vadnais Heights: "Jamie Lee Curtis is on TV, touting Activia. I have probably heard and seen that commercial at least 100 times, and I know that she is talking about 'grains' that are contained in the product. My poor brain doesn't compute that; all I hear her saying is 'brains.' I have listened carefully, and I still hear 'brains.' I don't know if I have convinced myself that she is saying that or what, but I swear, that is what I hear her saying. Doesn't do much for selling me on the product, that's for sure!"

Badvertising

Today's nomination comes from Little Orphan Grannie: "There is a commercial on TV from Honda. It shows a gal driving down a road and a police vehicle behind her with emergency lights flashing.

"The gal either doesn't notice this police car behind her, or she doesn't realize that she should pull over onto the shoulder to let the car pass. She doesn't move over.

"Finally the police car passes her, and she looks at it as it goes by. Clearly, as the emergency vehicle passes, you can see a double yellow line on the road indicating a 'no passing zone.'

"So, the driver is putting the officer's life in danger by her not moving over, as is the law, and by forcing him to pass in a no-passing zone. Shame shame."

Where we live

The Old Woodchopper of Eagan: "The Bride of 43 Years made a big pot of scratch homemade soup.

"After a great repast, I went to bed early. She said she would put it away before she went to bed, as she wanted to let it cool down first.

"Early the next morning, I could not find the soup in the fridge. I called her from work a bit later and asked her what happened to the soup.

"She said: 'I put it in the Minnesota Refrigerator.'

"I replied that I didn't see it on the front stoop that morning when I got the SPPP and hoped she had not put it there, as there are raccoons and coyotes in our neighborhood.

"She said: 'No, silly, I put it on your workbench in the garage.'

"The good old Minnesota Refrigerator: keeps leftover soup, turkey, pie and fudge cool, plus my beer -- but only at certain times of the year."